#the facial expression is fucking unhinged

[red-dead-sakharine]

I'm not sure sure if anybody needs or wants this, lol, but I had to share it...

This is the patch 5 epilogue for

evil Durge who embraced Bhaal after the Orin fight, but killed the Netherbrain, then walked free.

Can you imagine Raphael saying this? 🤣

[hotvintagepoll]

Charles McNaughton (Treasure Island)—he is such a weird little weird pirate in this movie!!!! the whole movie is creeEEEEeepy at this point, weird characters showing up at the bar FREAKING jim hawkins ass out, but charles mcnaughton's black dog (the first of many weirdos) takes the cake for me.

Dwight Frye (Dracula, Frankenstein)—he's my babygirl please please please please please i want to baby bird feed him flies and spiders and pick him up and make glitter edits of him and give him gross forehead kisses like he's my cat. in dracula he was so incredibly creepy that he was typecast as madmen for the rest of his life and he fucking hated it but by god if he didn't do a fantastic job. he steals the show every time he's up on screen just because he's so fucking deranged. i need him

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Charles McNaughton:

Link to the entire movie of Treasure Island [1932]—McNaughton comes in at 12:02. I haven't seen the whole movie in a long time so go forward with caution for content warnings!

Dwight Frye:

He absolutely owns the entirety of Dracula (1931). Compared to the novel, his part is massively expanded and it's clear why. He's magnetically unhinged and his facial expressions are pure scrungle. And in Frankenstein, he begins the archetype of Frankenstein's assistant even if the character's name there is Fritz. He'd still go on to play other scrungly guys in later Frankenstein movies. But he's kinda the archetypal and progenitor of the scrungly lil guy.

The scrungliest guy ever to scrungle. He's pretty much the blueprint for every mad scientist's assistant, and he's the best part of every movie he's in. He manages to make you feel sorry for the creepy little dudes, even when he's eating spiders and crawling across the floor.

[editor's note: content warning for the "hunchback" stereotype and "madness" in the clips below]

the "Rats" soliloquy:

I saw him in Dracula and frankly he has me bewitched. I could watch him do his silly routine forever. The gay tension with Bela Lugosi onscreen was frankly unparalleled. Kirk and Spock levels. I am chewing on the furniture

Played the weirdo little guy in Dracula AND the weirdo little guy in Frankenstein in the same year. Iconic.

I honestly think it would be a crime to ignore Dwight Frye's scrungle factor. He played two of the prototypical creepy little henchman as Dracula's lackey Renfield and Dr. Frankenstein's hunchback servant Fritz, and I believe that his excellence in these roles absolutely shaped the future character tropes of the "Igor" type as much as Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff shaped the future understanding of Dracula and Frankenstein's monster. He's got it all from the looks, to the manic energy, to the crazed laugh, I'm telling you right now that I think he could win the entire tournament.

The scrungles to end all scrungles! There's a reason why this man codified the manic vampire's familiar and the hunchbacked lab assistant for generations, because by God can this man be feral and scrungly: Whether he's soliloquizing about rats as Renfield, scurrying around Frankenstein's lab like a spider as Fritz, or skulking around dark alleys (and scaring the hell out of little baby me) waiting for a fresh heart to steal as Karl, if you want a scrungly little man for your classic film, Dwight Frye is your man. He has the range to play varying kinds of scrungle, with his wide eyes, his manic smiles, his soft, breathy voice, he is truly an undisputed scrungle master.

[gladiatorcunt]

modern!feyd thoughts? is he crazier than modern! coryo? i feel like modern feyd would be like a underground boxer or something

this ask is crazy because it’s so good. like i haven’t even considered modern!feyd before but the underground boxer element is 😋, went with the typical opposites attract hello kitty s/o trope again SORRY, mdni (AFAB reader)

Yeah something that like or mixed mma, i do imagine him in a more athletic field but it’d have to be one where he’s allowed to make a spectacle of being violent. The rookie that has a borderline demonic reputation because he’s so vicious. And sometimes he doesn’t even go into fights with winning being the first thing on his mind, he wants a good show as much as the audience does and he wants blood in whatever capacity he can get it.

He’s for sure crazier than Coryo, like lock them into a room together and Feyd’s skinning and deboning him like a fish. Still far removed from how he is in canon obviously, but i think that he does do the same extreme facial expressions during a match to psych his opponent out. Feyd wants to make it big, yes, but more so because he wants a bigger “stage” to have more people see him at his most raw and real.

But he stays because he knows no professional organization worth their salt would turn the other cheek when he loses control and kills his opponent. Not that that’s a common occurrence or anything, but the chance of it happening is never zero.

(His uncle definitely has a hand in the betting that goes on at his matches, and even places his own bets from time to time. Feyd’s resentment grows with every rigged match. He’s an unhinged freak with a penchant for blood lust, but he does still want to win at the end of the day when he’s done playing with his food)

You’re in the crowd for one of his matches. Attracted by the mystery and the taboo nature of what he does. You look nervous, rocking from side to side as your eyes follow every punch and dodge. You’re out of place, sticking out like a sore thumb in your tennis skirt and hello kitty necklace. There’s no date hanging on your arm or friend chatting your ear off, which leaves you ripe for the picking.

He keeps an intrigued watch on you out of the corner of his eye, hollering and crowding his opponent against the ring. He hopes you’re watching as he pummels his fists into the sorry bastard’s face. The low lights and the cheers from drunks and gamblers get his blood pumping. Even through all that background noise, he hears you softly gasp as teeth clatter to the floor.

Underground Boxer!Feyd who stares you right in the eyes when he’s declared the victor of the match, clocking how much you’re playing with the hem of your skirt. He smiles, a gross expression stained crimson and spits at his feet. It’s a good thing you’re so strangely accepting, his muscles are too sore to chase you down through back alleys and city streets.

He’ll burn through his winnings to give you the life you deserve, and he’ll wash the blood off you both when you get home after a fight. He can’t wait to see how you react to the motorcycle he’s got parked outside.

Fucks you against the cage when no one else is there and on his motorcycle. Gives you backshots in the shower, killing two birds with one stone. Bends you over his prize money and makes you squirt until you pass out on top of it.

Mean mean mean bf but he loves his favorite cheerleader with everything he has.

[elioslover]

Afterparties on Tour (One Shot- Italrry x reader).

Premise: Love on Tour is over and Harry needs to tell you how he feels.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: / Other writing

[I'm a little late to the party but here's a little snippet of Love on Tour ending and Harry's vay-cay in Italy. Obviously Italrry! is my favourite, I have a whole fic about it lmao.]

🪐

The moon bounces across the gentle but choppy waves, coming to a crash against the scattered rocks before dissipating and retreating from the shore. It must be loud considering the celebrations behind you, a chorus of cheers and booming base. 

Feet devoid of shoes, toes buried in the cool sand, nursing a drink and gazing out at the ocean, all that dancing has rendered you an unfit kid in gym class. It’s taken longer than you expected to even your exhales, and once it had settled, the feeling of your skin enveloped in the sand has you staying put. At least a moment longer. 

It would help soothe your thoughts about that succubus dressed in only a pair of short-shorts and a loose-fitted button-up, dancing far too close, eyes far too bright, glimmering under the ultraviolet strobes. 

He is so unaware of how unhinged he makes you feel, it seems like he only aims to pull you in further- so unaware, that he couldn’t begin to comprehend the concept of needing space and is already making his way over to your hunched figure. 

You hear him long before you see him, his steps are heavy and uneven, you can just picture the way he fumbles about, a faint and fond smile soothing your frown.

Once he is only a foot away, he announces his presence, 

“Oi! I’ve been lookin’ for ya.” 

He comes to a halt, and as you tilt your head to acknowledge him, your face is levelled with his thigh, bare, unnecessarily thick, and begging to have teeth sunk into its fleshy skin. 

Your brain is buzzing with profanities, ‘Jesus fuck’, ‘fuckin’ unfair.' 'fuck, fuck.' But you hold it together with perseverance, patting the empty spot in the sand beside you an invitation, 

“Hi, Lovie. Have fun?”

He obliges with a loopy, and cheesy grin that obliterates your sense of composure. He is so clueless as he drops to the ground, legs splayed out in front of him, arms stretched out to keep balanced. His finger brushes against your thigh, and you are furious with how easily your skin flares with fireworks. 

Harry takes a deep breath, craning his neck and tilting his face to fix his gaze on your own, his eyes sultry, pupils swollen with celebration. His smile only widens, 

“Much better now.”

He has to know what he’s doing. Surely. You cannot risk looking into his eyes for even a moment, fearful it will end with your lips trailing along his neck, tongue lapping and nipping at the nape. And for obvious reasons, you cannot look at his mouth, instead diverting both your gaze and the topic,

“I like the hat.”

“I’ll give it back, I swear.” He doesn’t want to. 

“Don’t. it looks better on you.” You want him to keep it forever. 

There’s a hopeful look that flashes across not only his green gaze but the crinkles of the corners of his eyes, swelling dimpled cheeks, and dramatically raised brows.  

You don’t like that look; it makes your insides melt into one big ball of overwhelming happiness and hopefulness. He could set you alight with one facial expression, just imagine what would happen if he did even more. 

You cannot will yourself to find out, choosing to commend him instead,

“You’ve been dancing up a storm.” 

“Mm. Wanted you to dance with me.” He nods, eyes lulling shut, his chin tilted to the stars.

“I did. For a good three or four songs.” 

He seems the opposite of satisfied, bushy brows creasing into a furrow and crinkling his forehead,

“Want you to dance with me all night.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You take the risk of brushing your shoulder against his own.

“And you’re beautiful.” He instantly retorts, tainting your skin with blushing berries, thankful that the moon reflects on the ocean instead of your cheeks. 

You’re even more thankful when Harry moves on without your help, inquisitively pointing at the cup still clutched in your palm, 

“Whatcha drinkin’?” 

“I think vodka and cranberry.” You ponder, glancing down and swirling the cup, liquid sloshing against the glass. 

He motions for it, holding his hand out, and you are more than tempted to drop the drink and wrap your palm in his. But he waits with anticipation, and you can only oblige and pass him what he wants, settling for a swift moment of your fingers brushing against his own. 

Tilting back, neck mercilessly on display, Harry takes an unintentionally large sip, swallowing with sudden unnerving panic. His mouth is an explosion of sugar sticking to his gums, sending electric charges straight to his brain, 

“Christ that’s sweet!” He exclaims, eyes scrunching with distaste, his hand blinding stretching out to return the concoction to your custody. 

“Just like me.”

“Just like you.” He mirrors. And he’s looking over at you now, eyelids swelled and intoxicated, lashes wisping, irises flickering in the moonlight. His expression slowly morphs into one of soft sorrow, and he can’t stop himself from speaking the silly truth, "'M gonna miss you, y’know.”

“You’ll still see me.” You attempt reassurance, but you’re almost certain Harry can hear the way your words stay trapped between your teeth, squeaking out with disappointment. You are disappointed if that even begins to cover it. 

“Not every day though.” He whines but before your heart can skip a full beat, he panics and presses on, “You’re the best assistant.” This is partially true- you are the best assistant, but Harry will definitely miss you for much more than that. 

You scoff softly, lacking the courage to take his words as anything other than platonic banter, a culmination of spending a prolonged period together- over two years to be precise. 

In honesty, you hope Harry shares same ache as your already-churning stomach at the thought of spending the unforetold future apart. It's embarrassing, though, knowing you feel far too much for a boy whose only obligation is to be shared with the world. 

“Oh, please. You’re just gonna miss being waited on hand and foot.” 

“That too.” He teases, hardly able to hold any sternness in his words, more focused on proving his feelings of fearing the distance from you. He needs to make sure you know. Before it’s too damn late, “But I'm gonna miss you more.”

“I’m sure you’ll survive.” You try to rationalise and lighten the mood for both of your sakes. 

“Hardly! My heart’s been breaking for days.” He flails his arms with a flair of dramaticism, even stomping his foot into the sand with extra emphasis. Dramatic display aside, Harry means every word, just the statement has his chest closing in. 

“I think that’s all the Scotch talking.” You say in an attempt to stop your own chest from aching the same. 

“I’m serious!” He defends, frustrated that you seem to have mastered the art in denseness… or diversion… which is worse?  

It’s obvious to Harry that you’re gonna need a little more convincing, and he is happy to oblige, turning his torso to face you, eyes fixed on your nerve-ridden ones, 

“Gonna miss your clumsiness, and your positivity,” he likes the way your face tilts down with shyness, lips pressing together bashfully, “and your sweet laugh.” He’s heard it once, he wants to hear it on a loop for all of eternity. 

His truthfulness is almost believable, but even if it was, you aren’t sure what to do with the information. He’s just begging for you to smother him in kisses at this point, and the conviction that he is simply unaware of the effect his words have on you is encouraging you not to indulge. Instead, you are rerouting the conversation again, 

“None of that has to do with me being your tour assistant.”

“Still.” 

Contradictory to his tongues distaste, Harry wants to touch your hand again, even for just a second, so he reaches for the glass of reddish liquid, skin sizzling when your hold lingers, taking an extra gulp for good luck, a small droplet of cranberry slipping down the slope of his bottom lip. 

The silence, though comfortable is deafening, and Harry needs to hear your velvety voice again, 

“Say it.”

You turn yourself to accept his authoritative switch, eager to see where he plans on going with this. Ignoring the desperate temptation to rub your thumb across his peachy, puckered lips, absolving him of the merciless sweetness, you take back the drink and finish its contents with one swift, throat-swelling swallow. Eyes crinkling from the candy cruelty, you discard the glass and give him your all,

“Say what?” 

“Say it!” 

He persists, looking at you with the most darling of pouts, a glimmer of mischievous knowing- wanting you to confirm his wishes. And, who would you be to deny him such an obvious confession?

“I’m gonna miss you too, Harry.”

“How much?” 

“You really are ridiculous!” Your eyes roll in sync with the huff that slips from between your teeth. 

“And you’re beautiful.” He says like it's old news, “We’ve been over this, how much are you gonna miss me?” 

Your stomach is in your head, your head is in your heart, and your heart is in Harry’s hands, unsuspectingly holding your entirety between the creases of his palms. 

He cannot know. So, you gesture your thumb and pointer finger together in matrimony but leave the tiniest of spaces in between- the false space in which you hold your sorrows for his soon departure, 

“This much.”

“So little?” He playfully pouts, and unbeknownst to you, his pupils are swelling with desperation for you to miss him as much as he, you.  

“Hmm, maybe this much.” With little leeway, you expand your two fingers as far as they will stretch, allowing your longing to settle in the gap. 

Harry's eyes light up with some sort-of satisfaction, his forehead raising, creases disappearing as his dimples swell from the force of his fiery smirk,

“Just as I suspected.”

“What’s that now?” 

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that… I win.” He concludes, boyish grin only growing- if possible- and with as much grace as one could have after two Scotchs, Harry stretches his arms out, swerving to miss you, his muscles spanning like that of a proud swan, “Cause I’m gonna miss you thisss much.”

His body is starting to stiffen and then loses all rigidity, he can’t stop- well, even if he could, he wouldn’t- his arm from wrapping around your shoulder, tugging you down with him as his body starts to tilt back, threatening to sink into the sand. 

“Harry!”

And your bodies are pressed to the trillions of pearly grains, giggles escaping through your parted lips. Your hair is surely sprinkled with sand, as must Harry’s, bodies awkwardly pressed together, his chest criminally close to your own. 

“Y/n.” He mocks, confirming his cheeriness over pulling you into his grasp, your back balancing on his stretched-out arm. 

The party plays on in the distance, the sea is still singing, and you can hear the soft and stable breaths of the prettiest boy on earth, his face tilted towards your own, freckles flickering under the silver sky. Harry is looking at you with an unreadable gaze- one that you have curiously noticed the past couple of months- it may be fondness... But whatever it is, it quickly dissipates into a woeful stare, and he glances away from your wondering gaze in favour of the sky. 

It's quiet for a moment- theoretically only a minute, but it feels like an eternity. Your eyes are tracing the curves of his chiselled jaw, swooping cheekbones, softly kinked nose. He seems miles away, leaving you alone on the beach just as you feared the future would be. 

But he is back on earth, and his eyes are back on yours right before your body threatens to rip itself apart. His brows are furrowed, and his chest hurts so carelessly that he wonders if you might feel it too,

“’M a little sad, y’know?”

“Would be weird if you weren’t.” You reassure, from a practical point, this is true. But from an in-love point, you need to ensure he understands you mirror his melancholy, “I am too.”

“Cause you’re gonna missss me?” Harry coos.

Harry wants to hear you say it in your own words, and the only way he knows how is to sugarcoat his words with a sweet and playful demeanour, scared of what might happen if it turns out that his feelings truly are one-sided. You wish he had said it seriously; you want to tell him that you’re being more than serious, that you will miss him, and that you’ll spend the rest of your life missing him, everything about him, everything he makes you feel, 

“Have you always been this annoying?” 

“I think you’re mistaking annoyance for attraction.” He tries a new tactic. 

“Even so…” You concede. 

“Even so…?”

“You’re both, alright. And you already know it.” Perhaps you’re giving away too much. 

To Harry, not enough. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to happen; did he really think you would confess your devout attraction for him? Did you even feel the same way? You give him the tiniest of hints, always so cautious and thoughtful. He knows this; he feels your fondness, feels the fiery connection… there has to be more, and how much longer can he wait? Threatened by the reality of the two of you going your separate ways, Harry is fighting this obstacle, fearful that this is his only and final opportunity, having to give you something more, some sort-of encouragement,   

“Just like to hear you say it.” 

What are you supposed to say to that? It has to be obvious that you feel so much more for him than mere attraction. Stumbling on words, a blushing mess, tripping over your own toes whenever he expressed his endearment or wonderment. 

It was certainly easier to chalk his affection up to close proximities, homesickness, and maybe even pining over another woman. Theoretically, Harry had more on his mind than spending his time seeking out your affection. 

Your lips are sealed, unwilling to separate and spill your secrets- the only thing stopping you from saying every little thing you love about him.  

But Harry is watching and waiting, carefully checking out the way your forehead furrows, eyes darting with some deep thoughts that he just wishes you would share with him. He’s seen this look before- sometimes showing up during difficult days on tour when you were challenged with a particularly gruelling or complicated task, and on occasion, Harry had noticed this conflict in your eyes during the duet of late-night conversations. 

He knows you’re stumped for words. He knows you don’t plan on speaking up. He needs to know what you’re thinking about, his face leaning forward, trying to close some of the merciless gap preventing him from being able to peck your cheek,

“Tell me a secret.”

“Yeah, right.” You can tell this is a trap. 

You’d be a fool not to know what he was trying; this was his last resort in deciphering your hidden agenda, and the last thing you need is the humiliation of finding out that this little thing going on between you two would remain just that; a thing of the past. 

“Tell me, and I’ll tell you one in return.”

He insists with such sweet innocence that could surely coax you into doing whatever he wanted,

“Okay.” You’ll go with the thing that’s been torturing you for weeks now, “I think you should grow out your moustache.”

“Done.” He answers so quickly, with such authority that your heart is doing somersaults. Before you can overthink his hastiness, he continues, “Tell me another.”

“Hey, that’s not how this goes.” 

“I make the rules. Tell meeee.” He’s a needy little one and he has you trapped, nowhere to go but nowhere you would rather be. 

What’s the point of keeping anything from him when it’s clear his persistence will only be soothed by your obligation? 

Harry is as Harry as ever, so welcoming and understanding before even hearing what you have to say. As far as you’re concerned, he’s been seeking you out for a reason, wanting to make sure that this ending isn’t eating away at you. 

It is eating away at you, though. You both know without verbalising it. If it remains unaddressed it may very well result in severing the ties you so tenderly share, 

“I’m nervous about going home.”

“Had a feeling.” He needs you to know that he knows. “‘M sorry, darling. Promise we’ll see each other, okay?”  

“Pinky swear.” Your eyes are like a puppy dog. 

“I’ll come over, and we can watch Normal People and… pretend we are.” Harry wants that more than anything.

“I’d like that… a lot.” Your eyes lull with the promise of his loving presence, “I’ll make you a warm cuppa.”

“You’ll have hot chocolate.” He notes proudly. 

“And I’ll let you use my fluffy blanket.” You do the same. 

“Ugh. I love you.” 

He whines dramatically, eyes rolling back, deliciously biteable lips parted and glossy. He really does though- love you. You loathe the flippancy with which he uses these words, substituting playfulness for the failure of his reciprocating your feelings, 

“It’s hard not to.”

“That cranberry’s giving you a big head, huh?” He nudges himself against you.

“Don’t be mean.” Also nudging against him in an attempt to reprimand his cheekiness.

“I could never be mean to you.” He pouts cutely, hoping you can tell that he certainly means it.

He’s close- too close- churning your common sense into a spiral of neediness to nearer his face, scatter kisses wherever his skin forfeits. Shuffling back slightly, you miss the way his brows twitch with misunderstanding, and you misdirect the conversation once more,

“Did you see the video I sent you?”

“That puppy was so cute I could have cried.” His features turn to mushy lovability.

“Don’t cry, you’re too pretty.” You tease. 

“Too late.” He tries to add a convincing pout. 

“Such a crybaby.” A cute, fuckable little sulk. Your diversion has certainly worked, but now you long for the back-and-forth of will-they-wont-they, and you cannot resist letting the words come out, “So, what’s your secret?” 

“I already told you.” He says it like it should be apparent. 

“You did?” Had you missed something? 

“Yep.” 

Harry’s certainty is cast-iron, peering over at you with palpable perceptiveness. If his secret was that he planned on growing a moustache, then he had done a marvellous job at fishing you onto the hook. A simmer of frustration bubbles in your belly, shyness and foolishness teasing you for falling into his trap with such ease. Your tone reflects this, retreating to the sanctity of defensiveness,

“Your secret is that you’re a crybaby? We already knew that.”

“Not that.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Alright, well, tell me again.”

“Ask me nicely.” He keeps you baited. 

“Y’know what, I don’t even wanna know.” You tilt your nose to the sky, giving him the perfect sight of your neck craned, cheeks like apples, lips pouted and puckered. 

“Yes, you do.” He informs.

“Nope.” Your lips pop at the P. 

“It’s gonna eat away at you.” He sing-songs. He’s right. 

“Glad to see you’re getting off on this.” Grumbling, you avert your gaze. 

“Would rather get off with you.” He torts, muttering, sudden arousal slipping from his lips and settling anxiously in the already-small gap separating your bodies.  

“Filthy boy.” You friskily reprimand.

“And you haven’t seen the half of it.” He promises.

“Is that your secret?” You press on curiously, “Not a surprise. I’ve seen your ‘fuck me’ eyes before.”

“When I was looking at you?” 

Harry knocks the breath out of you, not even out of you- it’s trapped if your throat, body stilling like a statue, tied and bound by the predicament he seemed to so blatantly provide,

“Not me in particular…”

“Apparently I have two secrets then.” He muses. 

“Just tell me!” You are clearly too focused on secret number one to notice that he just revealed secret number two.

“Hmm… Maybe.” Since you seem so clueless, Harry thinks he should drag this on a little longer, becoming more-and-more discouraged by your blatant dismissal of his attempts to express his affection. 

“Harry, I swear-”

“Alright, missy.” He can hold out no longer. “I love you.”

“I know that-”

“Love, love you.” 

“Oh.” You finally let the realisation sink in, and it sinks in slowly whilst Harry patiently watches the way you process both his feelings and your own. 

The fear of rejection humidifies the air around him, but the relief of having you hear him say it aloud is something he had not known he needed. 

Your entirety is like electricity escaping a plug socket, shocking you with such passion that the only thing left to do is give in,

 “Well, I guess I have another secret, too.”

“Tell me.” He need not know because you have said it in your own words. But, how nice would it be to drizzle your ‘I love you’ like honey across his aching heart. 

You will; coat him in so much caramelised molasses that he will have no choice but to understand that you love him... Right after you make him play a round of his own proven-pointless little game,

“Hmm. Maybe.”

—

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

Something completely unhinged with Euronymous please 😭 like the reader riding and overstimulating him until he's crying and his orgasms are dry 🥺

Safe a horse, ride your black metal boytoy 🤠

Deathcrush

Summary: Looks like Euronymous gets really sensitive when overstimulated.

Pairing: Euronymous x fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Content Warnings: Trve Kvlt Smvt 18+!, Bondage, Unprotected P In V, Overstimulation, Crying, Begging, Affectionate Degradation, Wax Play, Forced Orgasm, Implied Aftercare

A/N: Time to piss off some elitist, gatekeeping edgelords 😌🫡

Disclaimer - I want to make it abundantly clear that I am not writing about the real Øystein Aarseth. I am writing about the fictionalized version of Euronymus portrayed by sexyman Rory Culkin, please and thank you!

Tagging the gender neutral hoe squad:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @alalalaaallaaalaaa @star-milk-tea @milsthouqhts @roryculkinsbf @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @b4sementgrl

"Ma'am, stop, please! Please, I'm begging you! I can't…", Euronymous whimpered into the candle-lit bedroom, "It's too much, please!"

His wrists pushed and pulled against black rope that you had used to carefully tie him up against the head of the bed frame.

The rope most certainly added a nice, aesthetic touch to the view in front of you. His pale, nearly chalk-white skin against the black forming a contrast pleasing to the eye as you sat on top of him, his achingly hard cock buried deep inside of you as you rolled your hips against his crotch.

"Oh, I think you can take more, sweety.", You didn't stop in your movements as you smiled down on him, droplets of sweat covering his forehead and his eyes practically pleading unto you, "You've been so good for me so far and you don't want to upset me, do you, Euronymous?"

"No, of course not, Ma'am. But.." His raspy voice broke as you clenched down around him, making him twitch involuntarily.

"But what, baby, huh? Use your words." You teased with slightly arched brows.

"It's too much, please. I just need a little break, pretty please!" He pressed out of trembling lips.

"A little break, hm? Is my little fucktoy feeling sore? Worn out from Ma'am riding you all night long, yeah?" For a few thrusts, you picked up the pace, waiting for him to answer.

"Yeah, yes, fuck, Ma'am, please! Just a little break!" He mewled, almost unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Okay, granted. A small, little break you shall have…" With that you halted in your movements, a devilish grin spreading across your face, because you'd certainly give him his break but only on your conditions.

"Thank you, thank you so much, Ma'am." Euronymous gasped, his chest heaving up and down with every raggedy breath.

"Of course, baby. What kind of Ma'am would I be if I wasn't listening and taking good care of my property, hm?", You let the palm of your hand wander over his defined chest, nails scratching softly, playfully, "You know I really like your chest, don't you? It's so pretty but I think we could make it even more beautiful."

Withholding a laugh, you watched his brows furrow in confusion, his facial expression turning from sheer overstimulation to questioning.

"C-could we?" He looked at you with widening eyes.

"Oh, yeah! Let's just take this candle right here…", You leaned to the side to grab one of the many candles from the nightstand and let it hoover above his chest, "And let's add some color to that nice, soft skin of yours."

With a carefully watching gaze, you tilted the red candle gently until little drops of melted wax tripped over the edge right onto his chest.

Euronymous hissed upon impact, the liquid turning back into a solid on his skin.

"Oh, that's pretty! You know, I'm feeling a bit inspired right now…" You grinned to yourself as you slowly started to drip the wax in the rough shape of an upside down pentagram onto him.

With each droplet he squirmed and squealed underneath you, actively moving himself inside of you again.

"That's not fair…" Euronymous whined, his eyes fluttering shut as the pain from the hot wax and the ongoing overstimulation triggered every nerve to fire.

"You're moving now, baby. I'm just giving you that break you wanted to have so bad." Your tone saccharine-sweet as you talked down on him like that.

"No, no, you're making me!" He sniffled, the first hot, few tears of helplessness gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, no, I don't think so. That's your needy cock thrusting into me right now and deep down you know that you just need to cum for me again." You taunted him in a soft tone.

"N-no!", His voice was sore and shaky as you continued to drip wax onto his chest, "I can't…I can't cum again, please."

"Nuh-uh.", You shushed, "We both know that you can, babe."

After you finished your burgundy red work of art on his body, you placed the candle back onto the nightstand. Resting on top of him, your cunt provocatively clenching and throbbing around his cock, you attentively watched heavy tears roll down the sides of his face as an avalanche of gibberish spilled out of his mouth.

"No, no, please, no. I can't do this, no, please. I'm so sore, Ma'am, please. I can't cum again, please. There's nothing left, I-" He sobbed under his breath as you picked up the pace again, rolling and rocking your hips against his lap, his cock thrusting into you in languid strokes.

"But why are you so fucking hard for me then, huh? Filling me up like the good fucktoy you are." It left your mouth in a low moan, as the tip of his cock stroked and nudged against that sensitive spot inside of you.

"I don't know, I don't…I can't…" Euronymous' voice cracked again, his entire body turning rigid beneath you.

"See? Just let go…cum for me, babe." You encouraged, trying to push him over the threshold for the 4th time tonight.

"It feels so good but hurts…" He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth in a whiny groan, surrendering to you milking him dry yet again.

With a guttural cry, he arched his back from the mattress, his cock pulsing and twitching inside of you as you pulled another orgasm from him. Moaning and whining, he squirmed, pushing against the restraints until you slowly stopped moving.

"I'm so proud of you, babe.", You leaned down to press a long kiss to his quivering lips "I love my perfect, little fucktoy so much. I'm going to untie you now and you'll get all the praise you deserve!"

[thehatchetfieldpocketsquirrel]

hello tumblr

I was just at Starkid Innit and apparently there's a bunch of Starkid fans on here these days so HIIII. I've mostly been engaging with with fandom on Reddit and Youtube but I was a tumblrite in Ye Olden Days and this is probably a better venue for posting random musings than Reddit. ANYWAY have some post-gig thoughts written on my phone on the train:

Corey Dorris was incredible. Give that man a lead role yesterday. He absolutely slayed Showstoppin' Number and now I kinda want to see him as Hidgens. He's so damn charismatic and his voice is amazing and HE DESERVES THE WORLD

"Those books, which were written by nobody" - thank you Joey, A+ allyship

MEREDIIIIITH ❤ I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. So delighted that they got to do a load of Firebringer stuff and that they got SUCH big cheers from everyone, I feel like Firebringer is often underrated

Getting to hear Jeff singing Max Jagerman's part in the NPMD title number, YES THANK YOU VERY GOOD

Obvs I knew Lauren had range but seeing her perform bits from so many different roles in one evening really cemented it, wow what a voice, AND she's fucking hilarious

"Where'd you get your shirt!?"

Jaime Lyn's voice and mannerisms and unhinged facial expressions and THOSE BOOTS and AAAA I'm so glad she's having off-Broadway success in Five but also it's wonderful that she's still performing with SK! "Thank you for 15 years" 🤩😭

"I'm a Starkid founding member, I really should have a super solo number" - we love you anyway Brian

Super tired but maybe more thoughts later?? Mostly I am just so delighted to have finally seen these glorious nerds live ❤

[degloved]

apprentice strahm who gets trapped and subsequently recruited in the early days of the jigsaw op, when it's still a little underground and not nationwide knowledge. as to why, take your pick—the coke, the barely-concealed violent tendencies, the unhealthy obsession with any given case, the disinterest in his marriage because of it. hoffman's already there when john brings him round, this visibly unhinged fed that will certainly raise to the occasion. and this is right. he's the whole package. he's got amanda's fervent devotion to the cause, he's got hoffman's strength and taste for brutality (and very handily, the access to even more confidential information), he's got lawrence's attention to detail and meticulousness—bringing to the table also his own brand of acolyte insanity as well as the innate ability to tick off every task off his serial killer to-do while popping benzos like it's candy. the first hoffstrahm meeting goes as well as you'd anticipate, if by "well" i meant "catastrophically wrong." they're like two equally rabid stray cats forced into a small room with no preparation. this does not prevent the development of fucked up codependency btw. everything is a battle and a competition except actual physical fighting (in which they engage frequently), which is of course sex. something something you construct intricate details just to touch the skin of other men. or just this one particular slightly repulsive other man. they turn the kidnapping of test subjects into a fine art; it's a hunt, is what it is, and they're off the bat infuriatingly good at reading each other's body language and facial expressions and understanding nonverbal cues. in eight cases out of ten, they have to fight it out again after the fact. yeah i know they're just like that. the whole experience leaves them sooo riled up but it hasn't occurred to them yet to fuck it out. strahm constructs the water cube in his spare time, a little side project made up of odd bits of other devices. who is the trap for? him <3. but no not like that. he wouldn't use it. just... hypothetically. he's surrounded by these things day in and out, a man's mind will take him places he wouldn't normally go with a gun. it's a private thing, and it remains private until hoffman stumbles into the gideon plant at ass o'clock in the night, tipsy because old habits die hard. seats himself at strahm's bench, asks about the weird cube he's never seen before. strahm hesitates but explains, quietly softly. he has to try not to let his eyes wander to hoffman, even if they want to, because hoffman has folded his arms on the bench, head resting atop them because he can never keep it upright after he's had a few, and his hair is all mussed and his eyelids look heavy and he's watching strahm with these big ass eyes, hanging off of every word strahm deigns to tell him. they don't talk about it the next morning but everyone feels the resulting shift in the space-time continuum—even if they don't know where it came from. amanda hates them so bad btw

[dealingdreams]

The Acolyte s01e08: The Acolyte

*sobs* didn't want the rewatch to end but here we goooo. Same as before, I'll condense all my thoughts then do some final general thoughts at the end

Spoilers obvi

In the moment thoughts:

Even the recap is like...they are a couple putting that anger fear desire voice over over Qimir touching Osha's arm all soft like

He looks so worried!!! Like immediately runs to her. Immediately concerned. He's so scared but so strong to actually be able to pull his helmet off her

Also the red saber light in her eyes is just damn

They spend a lot of time following each other around

Also their lil bit of banter is adorable

Sol is in fully unhinged mode and honestly...kinda hot. he looks all disheveled

Bazel was protecting Pip that's my theory at east for why he pulled those wires

"When you're looking up to heroes you don't have to face what is right in front of you" DAMN

The way he asks 'would you ever consider?' is so fucking adorable

'last chance' he says you know...like a liar

Plagie being a creeper

Osha shutting off his coms and his facial expression kills me.

Look at them in their matching outfits

Why you have to say 'are you sure' like that...that was so sexy. Also him like just vanishing still gets me

'thank you for leading me to her. We make a great team' so snarky...the double meaning of this also

I love this fight between Qimir and Sol tho so much. I love that like flying moment. They both are so cool

Amandla did such a brilliant job in this scene with Osha and Mae.

Osha's scream was so cathartic and Mae's face of surprise was just so good

I feel like Qimir had a few openings to kill Sol

Also I love that he took his helmet off to face Sol like..if you are gonna kill me you have to look me in the face

Osha's voice breaking when she asks 'is they true' hurts me

This scene hurts my heart

The shot of the kyber bleeding is a fav

The difference in reaction between Mae and Qimir to Osha killing Sol is so interesting to me. Mae looks proud but Qimir looks...not sure if sad is the word but he for sure isn't celebrating. I think he really gets what this cost for her

He looked genuinely scared when he felt Vern's presence

Osha looking for Qimir and looking all disappointed when he's not there

I think it's really interesting he didn't attack Vern either when she was alone (he left to go get his wife)

What do you want, Osha? And she TURNS TO QIMIR!!!!!! Still wrecks me truly

Him handing her the saber with the dangerous bit facing him is sexy

I also love that he waits to take Mae's memories till Mae gives him the go ahead.

Sol reminds me so much of Anakin.

Him only stepping closer after a bit of non verbal communication 😍😍😍

Also his slutty thumb

General thoughts:

Fucking love this episode

The fact that Qimir went into that fight with Sol knowing that he wasn't going to be the one to defeat him is so interesting to me. like was he just toying with Sol? Was he wanting to make it a little easier for Mae? Did he wasn't to just buy time? Like what was going thru your brain baby???

A Lightsaber also presents life. That's a big reason why Qimir and Osha holding the saber together is such a big deal. Their life is now tied together. They are married I swear. Had a hand tying ceremony. Mae gave her sister away lol

10/10 episode

[foursaints]

i think my favorite interpretation of the rosekiller dynamic is one where they’re sort of inverses of each other if that makes sense… like barty comes across as very unhinged/impulsive/reckless and sees himself that way to an extent. but deep down he is very type-A and patient and pragmatic (see: goblet of fire because who the fuck hatches a ten-year revenge plot that is that convoluted). meanwhile everyone sees evan as a highly competent and calculated death eater who has three (3) facial expressions that are all variations of 😐. but inside his brain that man is screaming crying exploding and i am frankly surprised that he did not get himself blown up sooner

[justheretoposttrash]

day 12 of the final endhawks: endhawkspocalypse:

the adhd side of my brain has taken over and decided that consistency can No Longer Happen, so i've decided to make this my last day of posting, at least when it comes to sequential daily posts. i'm still unhinged-ly working on endhawks-related things for the foreseeable future though, and always happy to talk about the ship!

here's a final hodgepodge of thoughts!

part 1 - more ch430 positives

the continued use of a ranked *number system* in particular is silly imo (ig the masses do love a catchy numbered list). but at the very least, i gotta appreciate that the main characters didn't get top rankings straight outta school--when i think about how old they are post-timeskip compared to hawks, especially! bbygirl got #2 at 22 but was child-soldiered into it and was absolutely breaking his proverbial back. it's really not an aspirational thing to beat, and it's not something the main characters have to achieve to be "cool" or fulfilled narratively. they focused on their happiness, instead--shoto on finding his own identity and balancing his life thanks to his support system, bakugo on getting his boyfriend/whatever/queerplatonic-died-in-each-others'-arms-on-a-battlefield-in-a-past-life-and-now-they-keep-reincarnating-together soul-partners/rival back at his side so they can keep pushing each other, etc.! mirio's ascent notwithstanding, it's a healthy nugget from the final chap.

another cute thing from 430 is when hawks jokes that nagant is a villain. this joke has layers to it, considering both had to take on the villain label because of the commission, also contributing to their respective traumas under the commission. (they both even had someone cradle them in their arms shouting that they were still a hero despite them being at their low points--and physically very crispy. one of those someones being hawks himself, ofc.)

next, i gotta appreciate how unfettered hawks's facial expressions have become (also, his under-eyes are already thicker and darker, bro needs to sleep 😭) compared to how subdued they were in the twice fight (and to be clear, his expressions still screamed volumes then. i love how they're drawn to convey so much nuance in his emotions). once he was cut free from the commission, he stopped putting on a smile while doing hero work (there wasn't much to smile about post-raid, but pre-raid i'd argue things were bleak for him already, so at least he doesn't feel the need to put on as many airs). he also started actively sweating and showing fear, but without losing more genuine displays of confidence and happiness. (all this makes me very curious if his speech patterns have also changed in the original japanese to any extent compared to how they were at his introduction)

part 2 - dabi=endhawks truther?!?! *not clickbait*

i remember it being kinda hilarious that dabi tossed out hawks's history as an extra "fuck you" to endeavor, but i forgot how direct he is about his intentions.

he's just like, "yeah, i specifically wanted to drag hawks (and reveal his betrayal and hopefully shake your faith in him) to hurt you, dad. even though you two have hung out, like, maybe twice (may he rest in peace) in your whole lives. trust me, i knew this would be devastating for you. don't ask me how i know." like. touya my man. what are you doing. also thank you. almost makes the angst-lover in me wish he'd added a "don't worry about hawks, dad. you'll be joining him soon" right before attacking him with prominence burn to twist the knife, though understandably that would've convoluted the spotlight when the focus was meant to be on family and the touya reveal. but goddamn, just imagine.

he basically did the exact same thing to hawks by telling him his identity. in revealing a name that could only hold any significance to hawks through its relation to endeavor and what touya's existence implies about him, touya wielded a secret from endeavor's past to psychologically hurt hawks and shake his faith. it's just wild that he did it to both of them, pulled off flawlessly and with maximum drama, in rapid succession. legendary.

anyway, ppl tend to portray dabi as an endhawks anti, when funnily he's kinda more on the side of enjoying the fact they have a connection--granted, mainly as a thing to leverage to hurt them, bc he fuckin despises them (and granted, hatred in dabi's eyes is a complicated thing)--but still! he ain't in denial about endeavor's and hawks's relationship, he's an og! he's first in line! this makes his daddy issue allegations so much worse, but he doesn't care! and honestly i owe my life to him for his service in unearthing the truth; he's doing canon, in-text work to forcefeed the public endhawks crumbs that they didn't even want, and he deserves our utmost respect 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡

part 3 - our hero academia ft. protective enji

my mind was too wrapped up in The Plot to notice the subtleties of when Press Conference Lady yells at endeavor post-raid--for one thing, i realize on a second read that she's actually kinda yelling at hawks. so much of the emphasis is on endeavor's past actions that i didn't pick up on a few key details. for one, when hawks discusses his murder of jin, the visual centers endeavor's reaction, solemn but accepting/calm.

secondly, Press Con Lady speaks up right after hawks is done talking. thirdly, what she describes--not looking sorry, empty-seeming apologies, incompetence in the face of villains--apply as criticisms equally to hawks as they do to endeavor (notably not to jeanist, as he doesn't have a past or scandalous behavior to answer for).

it's also at this time that endeavor looks more angry (just look at his frown in the panel above!) and actually gives some pricklier-sounding pushback, when before he was mainly resolved and remorseful.

notably, he's translated as saying "we" and "our". ofc he's paying respect to his colleagues at large as well, but considering Press Con's criticisms are pointed most specifically and apply most to hawks and himself, he's strongly implying and acknowledging the pain that hawks has been through.

as he goes on to speak, the word choice shifts away from "us" and "we" to "me" as he claims responsibility for what happens next and urges peoples' slings and arrows to aim at him alone--again, for the sake of his colleagues and family at large, but particularly for hawks in this moment.

the undercurrents are so understated in this scene, but the degree to which endeavor shifts the language and focus away from hawks and onto himself is profound. throughout mha, we've got plenty of thought bubbles showing how hawks feels about endeavor in outright terms, but not as many from endeavor about hawks, especially after all their dirty laundry gets aired out. but even without thought bubbles, how he feels about hawks even at the worst of times becomes perfectly clear.

(god they drive me insane lmao)

[freezingmcxn]

Hey moon can u give more tips on writing? 🩷

WRITING TIPS

I’ve been writing for agesssss, but it’s only in the past year that I’ve started actually sharing my work, so heres some things that have helped me the most.

This first one is a little odd.. but it’s been so fucking helpful iwl.

When writing about characters’ reactions or facial expressions, I like to look in the mirror and make the face myself or even look at pictures of people making a certain expression.

It helps me visualise how the character would look in that moment, capturing those finer details that make the writing feel more immersive and vivid for readers.

This one’s a more typical tip, especially if you’re writing criminal or psychologically unhinged characters, is to watch interrogation videos.

These give you a great sense of how people like that might speak, behave, or react in certain situations.

“Overanalysing” people has really improved my character development and makes me feel connected to my characters, that way I feel that I know them and can be more authentic with them.

For me, details are everything.

When a writer captures small, almost insignificant movements, it makes me feel more connected to the characters. Their habits become familiar, creating an intimacy or even tension it can draw readers in.

I read a lot of poetry to basically expand my vocabulary and improve how I express certain feelings.

Sylvia Plath’s poetry, for instance, is super emotional, and you can really feel the intensity she’s trying to convey if you really enjoy her work or relate to it.

It’s helpful if you struggle with setting up emotional scenes (specifically grieving and self reflection, she deals with that amazingly) once you’ve felt an emotion, whether firsthand or through art, it’s easier to channel it into your writing.

When I need help describing settings, Pinterest is a great help.

It’s easy to fall into repetitive descriptions, especially with something like a forest, so looking at photos helps refresh your perspective.

For example, the outskirts of a forest are often lighter and more open, while the deeper parts are darker and more “foreboding”. Visualising these different aspects keeps your descriptions varied and interesting and then help you apply them to loads of other settings.

As for motivation, that’s something I’m still working on myself!

My main advice is to pace yourself and avoid burnout. Don’t rush the process, let your love for writing shine through, because when it feels rushed, it can come across as less authentic.

Hope this helped a little! Love y’all 🫶🫶

[bunnakit]

top 5 most unhinged scenes!!

ask me my top 5 bl anything 🌸

this is gonna require some serious thought hmmm

i mean this is the gold star right now, right? there's a reason yai is my pfp these days and it's because that was my exact facial expression throughout this whole scene. gobsmacked, elated, excited -- i really ran a whole gambit of emotions (i still am tbh)

i saw this moment out of context as the show was airing and i was like oh hell yeah a feisty lil guy - and then i got to the scene and i was like oh yeah no that's actually completely fair, he deserves a chomp. i would be so pissed if i was ai di and probably would have done the same. (and i enjoy you can see him think about going back in for another kiss tho)

sorry for the blood but like. this scene. this fucking scene. i can't remember ever crying so hard at anything. an open heart massage or resuscitative thoracotomy is a very real thing and is only performed in extreme emergencies when sign of life is still present. i don't think it would have done anything to help tin given the circumstances but the absolute desperation from sing to do anything to save his best friend was gut wrenching. and then to move from this into tol's grief and denial? this episode fucked me up so badly i had to take a lap around my house and do some breathing exercises.

i wasn't going to include kiseki: dear to me again but truly, what in the strawberry huckleberry fuck was chen dong yang thinking here? you're going to teach ai di about loss? ai di??? the orphan who lost his mom to a drug addiction??? who has only ever tried to protect chen yi? yeah, no, i think he knows a thing or two about loss, i don't think this "lesson" was necessary. i'm so fucking glad i wasn't watching this as it came out, i remember the screaming on my dash and i was FILLED with fear.

i did really enjoy we could see how aware of his surroundings ai di is at all times, though. his eyes scanned the area for just a moment and he was locked ON to that gun. baby boy might be a feral menace but he's good at what he does.

i am still reeling from this. you wanna run that by me again chief?

i'm going to be honest with you guys, i've been in this situation. i was dating this guy for maybe two weeks. he was going to get signed to a major league baseball team relatively soon (i've dated a whole cast of characters,) really nice guy, would come see me at work just because he missed me, almost everything was a big green flag. UNTIL. out of nowhere he says "hey do you want to have kids?" and i was like yeah idk maybe eventually and he replied "no i mean like now"

what the fuck do you mean??? hello???

needless to say uhh i found a tactful way to break up with him after that because what the fuck.

bls sure are a fucking RIDE and i am grateful for my new companion yai to really sum up my feelings about each and every one of these scenes (and all the ones to come)

[gioiaalbanoart]

Mixed Fried time (various flavors aka writing share)

Thank you to : @cowboybrunch here , @the-golden-comet here

@wyked-ao3 here

Ok, I'm particularly late and this is particularly NOT edited but....

(fuck it!)

*******

Wip TSA / The scarred angel

Facial expression or something must give me away.

Despite the urgency of the moment Ashley leans forward seeking for eye contact : "Amy..."

I can hear it, the firm tone somewhere behind the buzzing sound barrier invading my ears.

"Amy" steady.

"Amy" I can sink into that voice.

The clear blue gaze in front of me comes to focus.

"Amy stay with me"

"I want to!" is the unhinged answer crossing my mind.

Ashley's voice, the determination in her gaze, make the surroundings slowly tangible.

As I've gone cold I can feel now the sweat coating me and I start shivering.

"Can I take your hand?" she asks and I know I liked that sensation a few days ago so I micro nod.

Calloused fingers, slightly colder than I remember, wrap my palm and feel strangely familiar.

"Squeeze my hand" she prompts.

It helps me to ground so I do it, several times, as I slowly come back.

Probably a couple of minutes goes past, not sure, then Ashley's hand squeezes mine : "Better?"

I nod and probably have to let her go too.

"Listen to me" a little hardness is back in her pitch : "We can't stay here shooting the breeze we have to move. This tunnel is a short one but it will be pitch dark. You don't happen to have a torch with you, do you?"

I shake head no.

"I thought so. Then you have to stick with me and do exactly what I'll tell you, got it?"

I nod.

I still don't like the prospective of what we're about to do but I irrationally trust her.

"Another thing before we go in" she harshly says.

I give her an interrogative look.

"Give me your phone"

Even if the words put me off a bit I mechanically unzip the same backpack pocket where I got out the rag she borrowed before and take out my phone.

She takes it : "We need to get rid of it."

I wide eyes.

"Sorry"

She checks that the thing is switched off , lefts it fall on the ground and stomps mercilessly on it, a sinister cracks echoing.

Then takes the broken rest and throws them in the bush as far as possible.

I stare at her.

"Can't afford to be tracked down" she says by way of explanation.

Right...

I think at my miserable laptop in the backpack and she might as well be a mind reader at this point because she chin-points at it and asks : "I get that it's off and not connected in any way..."

I shake my head again.

Something says to me that the poor technology accompanying me won't survive what I'm about to do anyway.

She sets a first step into the passageway entrance : "Ok now, let's fucking go!"

......

*******

All right TSA tag list, you're up (NP)

@wyked-ao3 @saturnine-saturneight @tragedycoded @kaeru483

+ @the-letterbox-archives @the-golden-comet @theeccentricraven @mapplesand

+ @cowboybrunch @jev-urisk @sableglass @alinacapellabooks

+ @avaseofpeonies @aintgonnatakethis @glacialfield @lavender-gloom

+ @illarian-rambling @leahnardo-da-veggie @moltenwrites + @lychhiker-writes

+ OPEN TAG and a drink 🍻☕🍷☕ 🍹🍻

[sscarletvenus]

LOOKISM CHAPTER 471 SPOILERS

okay for starters the first affiliate's number 1 is in his way to allied and friends, as can be observed by the deafening sound of his footsteps

big daniel has vague recollection of the events that ocurred prior to his drugging by park jinyoung

warren informs big daniel that park jinyoung took him down, which triggers his memory of jay getting beaten up without putting up any resistance...

daniel desperately tries to wake jay up, and the latter finally does.

my body took a screenshot like THIS is why Jay x Daniel is THE lookism ship pf all time like i was crying and throwing up they're so???

also honest jerry and warren reaction to the above :

what do y'all know about besties?

these bitches forgot about rescuing hudson and the kwak brothers... cruel world!

jake taking random naps, vasco being not the brightest in the box... we're soooo fucking back!!!

not these dudes having the same hairstyle

just a very unserious group of people

WARREN FINALLY REMEMBERED TO ASK ABOUT ELI'S WHEREABOUTS

awful timing actually because now they're surrounded by first affiliate's forces and baek hangyeol is here

when i'm in a being a silly goose competition and my opponent is Daniel Park and his friends

baek hangyeol went to the Samuel Seo school of unhinged facial expressions and graduated with top honors

alexander hwang being the first victim of first affiliate's no.1 after being one-shotted by samuel AND jinyoung... lmao this man has suffered more than jesus

the basement hulk reminding warren of tom lee, zack of monk gongseob ji, Vasco of brekdak, jihan of jichang... i know this sounds crazy but i think the first affiliate's no.1 may actually be Jerry's dad - KWON BAEKHO, GAPRYONG'S bodyguard.

JOHAN IS BACK TO HIS SHIT-TALKING WAYS LET'S GOOO

ELI IS BACK LIKE DADDY'S TRULY HOME

the crewheads(and samuel) teaming up to take down No.1... PTJ's writing may be ass but I GOT THE SHIVERS

MY ROMAN EMPIRE

IN CONCLUSION : 10/10 chapter. Best one I've read in months. Truly MY LOOKISM.

Where the fuck is Vin?

[virtuousweakling]

Gyokko and Hantengu both have MASSIVE rejection issues and honestly, it leads to their romantic chemistry without them even realizing it and it's so much more than just "two physically revolting antagonists in the same season." Like this is gonna be complex af but I'm just gonna dive on into it.

Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy: A Gyotengu Psychoanalysis

(TW ⚠️ mentions of the bad things, can't tag em all just expect the bad things) ENJOiOiOiOi 🖤✨

Hantengu

Hantengu was probably possessive AF over his wives, friends and literally anyone who pitied him because it meant he successfully manipulated them and had them in shackles and wanted them to STAY there. Considering the author stated Hantengu would lash out on his partners when he was caught with infidelity and then murder them AND the children he had with them (he repeated this habit like a broken record), he likely had an ideal lifestyle in his imagination where he could rope a person into a relationship, knock them up, keep them trapped at home and continue doing whatever he wanted to do such as stealing and cheating, expecting the partner to be totally cool with everything, cook, clean and basically NEVER disagree with him. Due to him being such a womanizer, he was probably forced into marriage at times by getting women he wasn't in a relationship with pregnant. I almost can't picture this in my mind unless he is young and I say this because his elderly form is so fucking depraved, unhinged and emaciated, he'd have to make someone feel sorry for him in order to have any sex in the first place because I highly doubt Mr. Hantengu is the 87 year old village bicycle getting all that coochie looking the way he did. He probably got rejected as a young boy (he probably scared the fuck out of his parents OR his father was just as neglectful as he was) and has this complex in his mind that the perfect relationship with ANYBODY, coworkers, family, friends OR sexual, is one where HE HIMSELF is in total control and the other person basically can't have any feelings. This is a sad thing, because it means his emotions are so out of control he feels attacked by any sort of rejection, disagreement, anger or conflict regarding his own behavior. And trust me, I relate to this hard, I'm a BPD girlie.

Gyokko/Managi

Gyokko (as Managi) to my knowledge, would fly off the handle when he felt criticized for being himself or anything he did or created. He could not manage his rage for the life of him and when he decided to take someone's life for criticising him, he became addicted to the pattern and felt a sense of release in doing this. It's like he almost gets a high doing what he did/does and associates domination over others as joyful because in HIS mind, he takes whoever rejects his artwork and...well...turns them INTO the artwork. What sets Gyokko aside from the other demons is that his objective is not to just CONSUME the flesh. He legitimately has petty, catty ass beef with people who don't give him the attention he wants and he sees them as a potential tool in his... ✨talent✨ It seems like a sick joke but he genuinely thinks of what he does as being ok. His ideal lifestyle, much like Hantengu, is one where HE makes the rules. Perhaps he is someone who simply cannot harness negative emotions in a healthy way because he has literally no moral compass and has to have constant control over people, his body image, his art and his environment to feel better. He literally NEEDS to be worshipped as the priority in order to survive and if you don't comply, well... Why he is this way is unclear as it can be due to many things but we clearly see in the anime that Gyokko's facial expressions turn to disgust, confusion and sadness when people ignore him, belittle him or contradict his motives in any way. He's so comfortable with a pattern where he can just take whoever does that and hide their body in a pot until he gets caught or butcher them into his own disturbing "art piece." I personally do not see Gyokko as someone who is, like how a judge defied Jeffrey Dahmer, "legally sane and aware of his criminal actions." No, I believe Gyokko to be genuinely unstable and emotionally vulnerable, seeking emotional and egotistical comfort in who he kills and how he kills them.

AND IN CONCLUSION;

Gyokko probably sees himself in Hantengu, and is infatuated with Hantengu's hidden badassery, underestimation and literally NO MORALITY, NONE WHATSOEVER. I find it a hard time writing them in a relationship because I can't imagine two controlling personalities living together as a couple. WITH THAT BEING SAID, I also think there's balance in their relationship and Hantengu gives Gyokko exactly what Gyokko wants in a person: inferiority, self deprecation, anxiety and submission. Gyokko is attracted to how heinous Hantengu can be all while defending himself as if he's innocent because the entire situation caresses and validates Gyokko's own ego and dysfunction. Hantengu sees Gyokko as "oh gee, a big strong pawn in my game who FINALLY isn't human, since you know I hate humans, and he likes me too, so let me just hide behind him and act as if I'm an innocent little mouse who doesn't deserve any harm from anyone." Except unbeknownst to them both, they're fucking gay and extremely perfect for each other.

[moviebloggg]

What I noticed TSN rewatch🤪

Eduardo coming to Marks dorm looking concerned at TWO AM. “You and Erica split up” Why r u checking his blog at 2:08 am… - 12:33 and his CONCERN the whole time “it’s on ur blog :(, Are you alright :(, I’m here for you” like damn

Dustin’s adorable wave to Wardo :((( - 12:34 and DUSTIN LAUGHING AT THE “i’m here for you. no i need the algorithm” LMAOO - 12:43

Wardo waiting for him after the face mash meeting :( sitting down, headphones in, clearly been there for a while - 20:32

EDUARDOS DADDY ISSUESSSSS. “You have no idea what that’s gonna mean to my father” - 37:04 AND THEN MARK SAYING “Sure I do” LIKE HE KNOWS AND CARES TOO. Also, “My father won’t even look at me. (1:40:03) and there’s one more time i know he mentions it i just don’t know where😭

“have you slept yet?” (36:06) even after mark made him wait and in that tone like aw

BRO THE FREAKING BEER THING. stop aaron sorkin david fincher you fucking menaces how dare you put that there. (46:58)

Eduardo’s “oh my god…” at 51:29 when he realizes that they are in the stall next to them

THE LOOK AT 52:09. OMG KILL ME RN.

Eduardo’s sad and painful look at Mark after Sy brings up animal cruelty, like ‘really, you went that low?’ - 1:12:39

Marks tap on Sys shoulder saying ‘stop no don’t go there’ - 1:12:42

The parallel of how happy and jokey Mark is when in the dorm during the chicken scene with Wardo being put side by die with how hostile they are and how sad he looks in the deposition scenes. he never once smiles.

Marks sad look at Eduardo after being exposed - 1:14:39

Eduardo’s disbelief at Mark going so low as the chicken thing 1:14:41

Mark opening his mouth to protest against 1:14:43

the pain in Eduardo’s eyes after Mark makes a half joke that probably would used to make him laugh. also the look of betrayal and the eyes that say I don’t even know you anymore. 1:18:17

The disconnect between Mark and Sean. “Ever think about that girl?” “No???” 1:23:52

How so genuinely happy Mark looks when greeting Eduardo in Cali. The little grin. The surprising him. The wack on the arm. the ‘Wardo’. - 1:30:50

“I want- i-i want- I need you.” aaron. sorkin. what. the. fuck.

“I didn’t know whether to dress for the party or the business meeting, so i kinda dressed for both.” (1:41:51) Um aaron you did not have to go so deep with that one my god do you ever think of our feelings.

The piano coming in at 1:43:46 after the reveal is just so heartbreaking.

The PAINNNNN in his voice at “You set me up 😕” (1:43:51)

Throughout the whole confrontation scene, Mark looks like he’s going to cry. so so badly. especially at 1:44:50 like PAIN. And 1:45:27, “Yeah” - 1:45:50, and the REPEATING “You didn’t have to be that rough on him.” (1:46:00).

When he hit 1,000,000 people on HIS OWN WEBSITE he looks downright depressed. not happy in the slightest. he just hit this amazing milestone. should be like the happiest moment of his life. yet he looks like he wants to cry. I wonder why. 1:47:10-1:47:20

Marks outfit during the deposition w the Winklevi being a collared shit and sweater, outfit during the first deposition with Eduardo being a half zip up, and then wearing a FULL SUIT for the second one?? okay then

You don’t really realize it but I think it’s fitting that the last we see of Eduardo the whole movie is the confrontation. Like chronologically, he’s in it for way after, but with the actual editing and all the time skips, his last line is “Makes me look so tough” and thats the last we see him. pretty cool.

through the whole movie just THEIR FACIAL EXPRESSIONS DURING THE DEPOSITION. the SADNESS and REGRET constantly portrayed in mark. the PAIN AND BETRAYAL constant in Eduardo.

THE MOTHER FUCKING NORTH FACE ZIP-UP. WHAT THE HELL DAVID FINCHER. yeah this was genuinely insane tho. like that was unhinged. aaron sorkin, david fincher, AND WHOEVER THE BLESSED COSTUME DEISGNER WAS, reached new levels. we could’ve chalked everything up to gay people always looking for gay people in film, for exaggerating things that were only slightly there because of the need for more representation. but the north face zip up?? come on. I need to get me one of those now. the timeline makes so perfect sense too. We see Eduardo first wearing it when chilling in his dorm - 31:25. Then we next see him in it when at the intern “interviews” - 1:16:20. Then we don’t see if again for a little while, until MARK wears it during the business meeting - 1:33:52. This happens AFTER Eduardo visits Pao Alto. So he goes to Cali, presumably leaves the zip-up, (maybe even gives it??) and then ever since then Mark wears it in almost EVERY SINGLE scene. Because he misses Wardo. ITS INSANE. Like, the business meeting, then the phone call to Wardo. - 1:36:25. Then he wears it during the whole conformation, and is still wearing it later that night when Sean calls him. Like wow. That right there? Insanity. Purely CANONICAL gay insanity

and finally just some more character noticings. I really just love Divya omg. and the winklevii. like they r just so comedic at times. the first time i watched i viewed ty and cam as like one entity, but this time i really payed attention and like they r so different. cam usually takes the lead and he is very level minded and calm, while tyler is very hotheaded.

The first time andrew garfield just captivated me. i mean duh, he’s andrew garfield. but this time i just, wow. JESSE. he was perfect. PERFECT. best actor should’ve been his hands down. every single word he said was so calculated and made so much sense for his character like. and the real best part of his acting was his reactions, to everything that everyone else said. like he knocked it out of the park completely.